


Everything, Then Nothing

by Wondersheep



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Earthquakes, Gen, K-Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:59:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wondersheep/pseuds/Wondersheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Aleksis puts his head out the window, he can see the ocean.</p>
<p>Written for JaegerCon Bingo square K-Day</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything, Then Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> For JaegerCon Bingo square "K-Day". I haven't read any of the supporting material, so let's just pretend that continuity is for other people. My sister lives in Little Russia in San Francisco.

If Aleksis puts his head out the window, sometimes he can see the ocean. And he can smoke the cigarettes he steals from Uncle Vladimir without anyone seeing.

It's a Saturday, though, and the fog is its regular thick summer blanket over the city. He can barely see the apartments across the street. His mother comes looking for him at an hour she expects him to still be a lazy teenager in bed and he expects her to be working. He quickly drops the cigarette out the window. "What are you doing?" she snaps at him in Russian.

"Nothing," he grunts back, and then repeats it when he realises he spoke English by accident.

Her eyes narrow, and nostrils flare, and he thinks for sure he's going to be caught, but instead she says, "Uncle needs help at the deli."

He drags himself up from the sill and groans, but still grabs his jacket and closes the window, sparing a glance for the poor lost cigarette, still smouldering on the cement path two stories below.

Two blocks down to Geary, two blocks over. He's been walking this path for most of his life. He could probably do it in his sleep. Nothing really changes, maybe the houses get a new coat of paint, but everything's the same.

Even the earthquake, when it first starts, is familiar.

Aleksis keeps walking, until the ground is jumping and people are running out of apartments. Car alarms begin going off, adding to the noise that sounds like a train rumbling past, but there are no tracks nearby. Masonry cracks, and people begin to scream in the distance. He falls to his knees, feels the concrete buck under his hands.

Just as he thinks to himself, "Why hasn't it stopped?" the rumbling slows, then ceases. Screams fade, replaced by ambulance sirens headed down the hill from St. Mary's. Aleksis stands up, brushes himself off, then notices the scrapes on his hands bleeding sluggishly.

There's a first aid kit in the deli, in the back. The bells ring as he opens the door, and he's hit by the smell of vinegar first. The power's out, so he can barely make out the fallen shelves and the smashed glass jars spilling their contents everywhere. *I'm going to have to clean this up* is his first thought.

Someone outside walks by singing, drunkenly, "We built this city on rock and rooooooooll!"

And after Uncle Vladimir pours antiseptic over his cut hands, and makes sure that Grandfather's chair is outside and Grandfather is installed in it with tea and cakes, ready to gossip with the neighbors, a broom and giant dustpan is shoved into Aleksis' hands and he follows behind Uncle to scoop the wet, sopping messes of pickled vegetables and glass into the bin.

He barely notices the aftershocks, because after a Big One, who really cares about the little ones? Uncle's the first one to pause, and he motions for Aleksis to stop moving.

The screams have started up again in the distance. And the little, tiny aftershocks? Are rhythmic.

Grandfather sticks his head into the deli. "Vladimir, go get the truck. Aleksis, go get your mother."

"What?" Uncle Vladimir asks, at the same time that Aleksis says, "Why?"

Grandfather shakes his head. "Go. We need to go. Now."

Alexis can see Grandfather's eyes, and there's a fear there he's never seen before. It's a fear that sings in Aleksis' bones, and propels his feet up the hill.

Aleksis slams into the apartment, almost knocking over his mother. She has her purse and keys and is putting on the apron she wears at the deli. "What's wrong?"

Aleksis says, "Grandfather needs you," because that is the only thing he can think to say.

And it works, she flies out the door and down the hill, and Aleksis takes a moment to close the door of the apartment and looks towards the beach.

The fog is thick, he can't see much beyond the next block.

But there's something moving in it.


End file.
